


Strung Tight

by tatooedlaura



Series: Out of Sorts [2]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 06:23:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12293169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: She looked at him, smile dissolving to decision, “they do say anything less than three hours sleep is useless anyways.”





	Strung Tight

Not sure if she stood for two seconds or ten minutes, deep in chaotic debate on whether to let go the doorknob and move to him or use the knob and move away, hide herself behind thin motel wall and just a little bit of angry shame. Fingers voted for first, head screamed about second, heart pounded a deafening decibel in her ear until, finally, eons after her comment, she looked at him, smile dissolving to decision, “they do say anything less than three hours sleep is useless anyways.”

“But it would be four.”

Hesitant step in his direction, “it would take me awhile to get back to sleep.”

Mulder wondered about that but simply gestured her into his room, following closely behind and locking the door, “can you grab the phone book?”

&&&&&&&

Four minutes later, once Scully had exhausted their two pizza options, “I guess it was kind of a pipe dream to think we’d find delivery at 3am in a town with two stop lights.”

“Pipe dreams can be a good thing.” He was by now settled cross legged on the end of the bed, hair askewed to epic proportions, bedspread twisted behind, “want to wander for a party store or,” waving the remote at her, “just see what bad TV we can find?”

‘Out of sorts’ was coming back with a vengeance and she swayed by the door, the debate now either to leave or hit the lights and cruise the channels next to her basketball shorts wearing, faded Flintstones t-shirt sporting, big, bare-footed sculpture of a partner …

Did she seriously use the word sculpture just then?

She really should run for the damn hills …

Instead, she slapped at the switch, smothering the room in a darkness that had her searching momentarily to find the bed. Mulder chuckled as he reached out to find her instead, hand in hand a second later, “it gets really dark in here.”

After a choice swear when her toe found the bedframe, she gingerly sat next to him, searching aimlessly until she found a pillow to pull onto her lap because desperate times call for pillow barriers … they make everything easier.

She was an idiot.

Mulder switched on the TV, intent to find something to make this adventure a modicum worthwhile.

&&&&&&&&&&&&

And he switched it back off, “sorry. I didn’t realize we got a cable free room.”

“It’s okay. Maybe the fates are trying to tell us we need our sleep.”

“Fates? It must be late for you to be mentioning mythical things instead of REM sleep patterns.”

The pillow hit him in what she hoped was his face, given it was still near pitch black, “don’t hassle me.”

She felt a tug on the back of her shirt, “like I’d ever hassle you.” Then the tug again, “can I ask you something?”

Run, Dana, run, right the hell now …

“Sure. Why not?”

“Why are you ‘out of sorts’?”

“What?”

Bed shift, leg slide, he was behind her, using those blasted green glass eyes to see in the dark, shin across the narrow expanse of lower back and upper ass, “once again, I know you and I know something’s bothering you and I can’t ply you with pizza and TV so I just have to ask you straight out.” Chin now lowered to her shoulder, cheek pressed warmly to her ear, she felt his stubble grate enticingly on her cheek, “what’s wrong?”

Where the hell did that damn pillow go? Why wasn’t it on her lap and available for twisting and fidgeting as God intended pillows to be?

“Just weary, I think. Ready to go home.”

“Uh-uh, I don’t buy that. You are strung tighter than a violin right now.” Hands moving slowly to her sides, “try again.”

“Mulder, I’m fine.”

He debated for all of half a second whether or not to tickle her, see if he could loosen her up but the way her muscles jumped when he touched her, he opted not to. Instead, he simply stopped, leaving his hands, “you are such a bad liar.”

‘Out of sorts’ turned cranky with that last word and she turned, knocking him accidently in the chin as she did so, “can you see my face?”

“Not as well as I’d like to.”

Cranky moved to wonder, words stuck in her throat but managing to haltingly spill out, an octave higher than she would have liked, “I can’t see you at all.”

“Then don’t flip out in a second.”

“Why?”

His lips were on hers, light, airy, soft, warm, inviting, excruciating, enamoring, the thesaurus couldn’t contain all the words she wanted to use in that moment but she really didn’t care, her body uncoiling in a heartbeat, tension gone, hands reaching for his face, semaphoring a desire to go on …

but hitting him in the larynx instead …

He choked, pulled away, coughed, nearly fell off the bed and in jumping up to find the light switch, make sure she didn’t slice his jugular with her nails because that was the kind of thing that would happen right now, Scully took the bedspread with her and tumbled to the ground.

The coughing subsided and Mulder gingerly picked his way through the chaos, careful not to step on his partner on his way to the wall. Dim incandescence lit them both up a moment later and all he could do was laugh … cough and laugh … cough and laugh and drop to his hands and knees …

And kiss her again.


End file.
